


But he is still in the dark

by laughingpineapple



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Companionable Snark, Gen, good timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Which Detective Cabanela Demonstrates His Unmatched Prowess And Usefulness By Changing A Light Bulb (when Jowd could not).</p>
            </blockquote>





	But he is still in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



 

 

“It's you! Thank the gods you're early!”

Alma greets him on the doorstep and he cannot help but wink in agreement: there's just no party without him, is there. And no party would be an utter waste of the mistress' best show of a 'proper host' attire: an hour to Christmas dinner and there's not a hair out of her high braid, not a less-than-perfectly-manicured violet nail, no mismatched piece of jewelry nor a single wrinkle on her silken shirt (now if only someone else in the household would follow her lead).

“Fashionably early is the new late, baby, don't you know”, he starts, ready to crown it off with laughter, but Alma is having none of his little plays. She touches the tip of his nose with her open palm, stopping him right on his tracks.

“There's a light bulb to change.”

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart. The 'shining beacon of the detective division' ain't shorthand for its electrician.”

“You wouldn't want your worst enemy to climb on a chair on these heels, dear.”

“Not what I –”

“Nor to untie them just to tie them back in a minute.”

That's final – Cabanela wonders how many of his archenemies will ever sport meters-long laces tied in three ribbons per boot, but then again, who is he to question life's surprises. Still, as he strides into the house, Cabanela stares pertinaciously at Jowd, some five steps behind the two of them, in a last mute attempt to get his point across.

“He's busy.”

In all fairness, tasting appetizers seems to be requiring all his zeal and concentration. A thorough man, his partner.

“I can seeee that.”

And Cabanela would add: _What are we, his servants?_ , but he can feel the echo bouncing off Jowd already, and it goes like _Took you long enough to notice_ , and since the best argument he can muster against it is that actually no, that was clear right off the bat, and it doesn't seem like that would help his cause at all, he spares his breath. _You win this round. Jerk._

 

So he follows Alma into the kitchen like a self-appointed well-behaved cat, just to outshine the actual cat who's in turn tailing him, and doesn't take his eyes off Jowd for as long as the dining table is in sight. He's humiliated, that much is clear. Cabanela sees, with the corner of his eye, that Jowd's attention is focused on him too, ready to take in any jab that might be thrown at him and find a quick, clever way to shrug it off. Same old Jowd, except he's too tense for his usual game of understatements. He is expecting to be put under pressure. And Alma shields him, as is to be expected, these two always have each other's back, but they don't fit this time. She's off. She doesn't know what she's covering for, does she.

 

*

 

(How many detectives does it take to change a light bulb? One. And be thankful that the question was 'how many' and not just 'how'.)

 

*

 

“Your dastardly attempt to get rid of me through electrocution was pretty clever, baby, but I'm glad to tell you, it got thwarted.”

He walks back to the table like he owns the place. Jowd doesn't respond to that, much as he used to be bothered by those shows months earlier, as Cabanela started to be a constant presence around the house (it's an endearing trait for an unrooted rolling stone, this attachment to his house, to private spaces, and one that Cabanela plans to keep on poking until he understands it better). His friend does, on the other hand, react to his words. He is still smiling, but his shoulders stiffen for an instant, as if it were a conditioned response.

“Good deduction”, Alma chimes in from the kitchen. “Wrong mastermind!”

Good save, Alma.

“As my new worst enemy, theeen, watch out for those boots!"

But witticisms aside, the point is that she defended him. He's on the defensive, she's on the defensive and can't nobody around here see that the very last thing he wants is to attack their unity? Can't they all go back to being happy?

 

The cat isn't about to give him a break either, following him and staring at him with fixed yellow eyes. Cabanela sometimes wishes he could speak cat because, when push comes to shove, that one seems to be the most reasonable member of the family. He'd know what's wrong, wouldn't he, kitten?

As life has a knack for being unfair, his best shot is the notoriously harder task of learning to speak Jowd.

It wasn't even an emotional reaction, that would be written all over his beard, it was a body reaction. He froze for an instant. And Cabanela has seen him do the same more than once, with gunshots, all since that damn day when the interrogation went wrong. He just wants his friend back.

 

“Scared of some electricity?”

“Just bored”, Jowd says with his calmest and most charming smile (charming for punches, that is. His fist is inexorably attracted). And he has every right to smile: with some ten minutes to prepare this pantomime, he should be able to lead any reply back to his joke, his trap, whatever it is that he's planning. Bored of electricity, he's going to tie it back to all the sparks at work and blame it on him, isn't he. Quite clever, Jowd, but just quite, unless there's some other punchline Cabanela isn't seeing. And that he isn't eager to find out.

“You know you can rely on me, my friend”, he says instead. In perfect earnesty.

“What for?”

Cabanela sighs. “...Electrotechnics. Bulbs to change, power outages to detect, I'm your man.”

“Sure thing.”

“Try me. I'm an expert in teeensions, remember? Tension, current, wattage, same thing.”

Jowd chuckles, cautious, and pats him on the back; he latches onto the momentum and turns it into a dramatic fall on a chair, limbs everywhere but on the carefully-laid table. Head twisted backwards, he doesn't let the other see his lip curling down. Jowd didn't spill the beans. Shoot, breakin' news: he never, ever does. But Cabanela will crack this case, he'll – he _will_ see them careless and happy again, gods be his witnesses, he will drag them all back to where they were two, three months ago.

If Jowd thinks that playing rubber is enough to make him desist, Jowd is a fool and doesn't know him at all.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A Jowd/Alma with attached white coat prompted specifically by Jowd remembering all his deaths in the new timeline, exploding electric chair included. I hope it can be to your taste... Happy Yuletide, dear giftee!


End file.
